Remember October
by Guardian Erin
Summary: Drabbles of different sorts.
1. Fun Drabble

"Can we use rats' eyes?" 

"No rats' eyes," Dawn said, trying to focus.

"How about… goat liver?" Spike inquired, holding a jar of liquid and floaty chunks.

"No goat liver. Would you please sit? You're distracting me."

"Sorr-_ee_," Spike set the jar down. "…Can't we use rats' eyes?"

"_What is your fetish for rats' eyes?!_"

He'd broken her concentration - again!

"They taste good."

"_Yuck!_ Sit down and stop being a brat."

Spike sighed heavily, sitting down. "Fine. I'm good. What's next on your witchy list?"

"Sandalwood, salt… blah, blah, blah… r-"

Dawn couldn't believe what she was reading.

"…Rat's eyes."

"YES!"

* * *

"This is unbelievable," Anya muttered, rummaging through the shop supplies. 

No one was around, so she could take whatever weapons or spells she needed to fight the evil.

Unfortunately, magic wouldn't work. She'd seen powerful warlocks cast tremendous spells, but nothing effected the creatures.

"Because they're evil," Anya said aloud, tucking daggers into her pockets. "Pure. Concentrated. Evil."

To make matters worse, the Scoobies were completely oblivious to the danger. They had to be under a spell.

It was up to her.

Anya picked up a sword and headed out to fight the demons.

"_Those rabbits' cottony asses are mine_!"


	2. Warm Drabble

"Buffy thinks Miss Kitty Fantastico is a bad name." 

Tara remained silent, smiling at their playful black kitten.

"I like the name," Tara spoke calmly, unconcerned. "It's fine for now."

"I'm worried," Willow sighed softly, but Tara always listened carefully to every word. "What if we can't keep her? What if Buffy finds out…?"

Tara sat up and covered Willow's hand with her own. Hesitantly, she brushed her lips against Willow's. A happy sighed escaped when Willow kissed her softly.

"It'll be fine," Tara promised. "Miss Kitty is our baby. She's gonna live forever."

"You think so?"

"I already know."

* * *

_  
He hasn't smiled this much since Drusilla_, Angel thought regretfully while he observed Spike from a safe distance. 

The younger vampire had seemingly regained his exuberant disposition. Angel felt worn out just watching him.

Spike, oblivious to the attention, continued to tease the energetic young girl he'd found.

_They'd make a good pair, _Angel admitted, chuckling mentally. 

At that moment, Spike noticed him. He flashed a delighted grin and came running over.

Angel blinked as a tiny black kitten was thrust into his face.

Spike's blue eyes sparkled, as wide and innocent as the creature.

"Daddy, can we keep her?"


	3. Cold Drabble

Blood on his hands.

Right.

Cold and wet, staining his clothes, staining his soul.

It  
Would  
Not  
Stop  
Flowing.

That was how it had all gone bad. It didn't stop. And he'd started to cry in fear. But it wouldn't stop. And the screaming didn't help.

Now, in the darkness, the blood was still.

Dark pools stained the floor, and the girl was very still.

He waited for her to wake up again, not moving.

He didn't want her to be alone, but when the flies came, he started to cry again.

_Bad William. Bad Spike. I hurt the girl._

_

* * *

_

"Do you remember October?"

It stops Angel cold; that breath that comes through the wires before he even says, '_Hello?_'

Spike's voice instantly resurrects all the years that had gone unmentioned.

Of course he remembers October… It was the first time Angel had been afraid of losing his childe.

Vampires weren't supposed to get sick, but Spike was always strange. A Russian winter should not effect a vampire, but it nearly killed Will.

Guilt-stricken, Angelus brought Will to his bed and cared for him until spring.

He promised to watch over Spike.

"I can be there in two hours."

* * *

Angel found Wesley overlooking the science lab, still staring blankly at the sarcophagus. 

It was unthinkable, what had crawled into Fred's body… Illyria was touching the dusty edges of it's ancient casket, as if wishing it could go back.

"It can't go back, Wes," Angel broke the silence, afraid of letting it grow. He stood beside his friend, staring through the glass at the blue figure below.

"I know that," Wesley's voice was raspy, showing his exhaustion.

"Fred is gone," Angel whispered.

Wesley squeezed his eyes shut to block out the welling pain.

"I'm sorry, Wesley… but don't forget that."


	4. Hard Drabble

Ever since I learned I was the Key, I feel like I've been growing more distant from humanity.

I tried to become a better person. I wanted respect; I wanted them to realize I was useful.

No matter what I did, they kept blocking me out.

I thought they hated me, but maybe they somehow know I was wrong.

After all, how good can I be, with this corpse at my feet?

He threatened to hurt my sister. He hit me. I _murdered _him.

And the flecks of blood on my hands aren't guilty reminders. They are words of approval.


End file.
